A Thief in the night

I was early returning from my errands before lunch, and so I went out to the sea, alone, to face my melancholy thoughts. I stood atop the cliff, face numb from the freezing spray and wind, looking down at the sea all chiseled and edged like slate. I went to be reminded that the created world cares little for our mortality. Grain by grain the relentless waves reduce the castle into sand. We live but the span of a few breaths, and though our foundations of stone outlast us, the sea was here in the beginning, and the sea will outlast us all.

There was something infinitely graceful in the way the seabirds flew into the wind.

I had another, impromptu, meeting with my Primary today, to follow up from last week’s, and it was the meeting I was hoping for. She had rescheduled to the afternoon, unwittingly allowing me more time to prepare. At least for this section, we are on the same page, for the first time this year. I actually left smiling instead of near tears, even if I jokingly offered to be in a crisis to save her from a meeting she didn’t want to go to.

And so, so, so, though this morning had a melancholy start, and though the haar has rolled in and I can barely see the next building across the street or the lamplight shining in the dim, the day has ended well. At long last I have A Conspiracy of Kings by Megan Whalen Turner. I shall go put away dinner dishes and then begin. As Kelly so aptly put, consider this my ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign.

5 thoughts on “A Thief in the night

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